*Eva pressed the accept call button on her steering wheel when the AI interface spoke the well-known number aloud.
“Mum? Everything okay?”
“Honey, I’m sure it’s fine, but Matty just brought up his morning tea. I’m not sure if he just had too much to eat, or if it was because he was running around like a mad thing just before eating, but I thought I’d tell you.”
Eva forced the immediate worry down and nodded to herself. “Okay. Does he have a temperature or anything like that?”
She indicated to turn left, changing direction to head towards her parents’ home instead of downtown.
“No. No temp. He’s not clammy or anything. He’s as bright as always.”
She bit her lip and glanced at Simon. He sent her a carefully schooled look and shrugged.
Eva let out her held breath. It didn’t seem like it would bother Simon if she went to check on Matty. “I might just pop past and check, myself. I’m in town at the moment. Just in case I need to take him down to the doctor or something.”
“Oh! All right. Sure. I’ll see you soon, then.”
Her mother hung up and Eva glanced at Simon again as she turned another corner. “Do you mind if we stop by for a moment?”
His beautiful blue-grey eyes softened. “Of course not. He’s your kid. You gotta check. I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about. Finn’s gagging on crap all the time. The amount of stuff that kid tries to shove into his mouth is insane.”
Despite herself, Eva laughed. “They do take things to the extreme. Honestly, I swear Matty hides things on purpose just so he can chow down on them when my back’s turned. I even found a wizened-up old piece of fairy bread in the base of his spin-garden. Who knows how long it had been there.”
At Simon’s confused look, she expanded. “It’s this musical tray thing that sits in a stand and has a catchment under the tray so the blocks they stack on top have somewhere to go if they fall, or when you pack it up. These round bits that you stack the blocks on spin in time to this crazy wild music. There’s three separate spinning bits that all go at a different rate, and he gets the biggest kick out of trying to stack them as high as possible, then they all come crashing down in a heck of a racket. He spends ages playing with it.”
A slow smile widened Simon’s mouth, sending shivers scooting down her back to pool in her belly.
Such a glorious smile.
“I think I’d like to play with that,” he countered.
Eva’s laughter echoed in the cabin. “It certainly is fun.”
She pulled into her parents’ driveway and killed the engine. As she hopped out, she looked up at Simon. “Would you like to come in? So you don’t have to sit in the car?”
Simon shrugged, an indecipherable expression on his face. “Sure. Why not? Beats sitting in the sun.”
Waves of nervousness flooded Eva.
Calm down, girl. You’re not taking the guy home to meet the parents. It’s literally a puke pit stop.
She almost laughed at her own nonsense. As much as she’d love to, she’d never be taking Simon to meet her family. Not like that. Even though he’d admitted he found her attractive.
She bit her bottom lip to contain the thrill that shimmered up her spine with that thought.
He thought she was attractive.
No, Eva. He’d said gorgeous.
Eva inserted her key into the lock and pushed the door open to let Simon go ahead of her. Instead, he pushed on the heavy oak door above her head and swept his hand in an after you gesture.
Her insides turned into a gooey mess. He was such a gentleman, even if he didn’t think so.
Slipping off her shoes, Eva stepped into the living room from the short hall, Simon’s tall frame close behind her. She noted he’d done the same with his own shoes, lining them up neatly beside her own and Matty’s.
Her stomach clenched, then somersaulted.
Don’t go there. Just don’t go there, at all.
She wasn’t looking for a father for her son. She was doing fine on her own.
“Shut up, stupid brain,” she murmured, thankful Simon couldn’t hear her whispered words.
“Hi, Mum,” she said as she spotted her mother and Matty on the floor, playing with the toy cars.
Her mother smiled and sat up straight. “Hi, Eva.” She looked back toward the little boy in front of her, who turned at the sound of Eva’s voice. “As you can see, he seems fine now.”
Matty shoved to his feet and ran for her, then stopped dead, blue eyes wide and staring above Eva’s shoulder.
“Oh! You should have said you were bringing company,” Emilia said, pushing to her feet.
“Hey, Matty,” Eva said softly. Her son was usually wary around strangers, then became his friendly little self once he’d taken their measure and decided if he liked them or not. Sometimes it took only an hour or two, other times, days.
He ignored her, still staring at Simon who had entered the room just behind her.
A smile flickered on and off on his little face, then he let out a high-pitched, joyous squeal.
And bolted for Simon.
Eva grabbed for him, but he evaded her hands and launched himself at Simon’s legs. Simon stumbled a little, his hands out and ready to steady Matty if he fell, but the look of sheer shock and discomfort that washed over Simon’s face had Eva’s heart trying to leave her body.
“Matty! No!” Eva hurried to them and tried to extricate her son from Simon. “Come on, let go! Please, Matty!”
The more she tried to untangle her son’s arms from Simon’s legs, the tighter he held on. She looked up at Simon, mortified that her normally—mostly—compliant son was being so utterly non-compliant.
Matty squealed and Eva let go.
“It’s okay, Eva.” Simon’s deep voice tunnelled through her panic.
Why was Matty doing this, and why now? Why Simon?
“Really. Don’t stress, babe.”
Eva’s eyes bugged wide in surprise. Simon’s did the same. Pink flooded his cheeks, the reciprocating heat doing the same to hers. “I mean, it’s okay. Really.”
Eva could feel her mother’s intense scrutiny on her back, as if burrowing into her soul. She could barely breathe as Simon managed to pry off Matty’s fingers enough to hunker down in front of him. She could see it cost him, but Simon pasted a smile on his face and held out a hand that trembled noticeably.
*
“Hey, buddy! I’m Simon.”
Shit! Why had he said that to Eva? Why call her babe, of all things—and in front of her mother, no less. A woman he literally hadn’t even met yet.
His stupid hand was shaking. He couldn’t even try to hide it. He sucked in a deep breath and focused on the little boy who looked so much like his mother that it was uncanny.
All except the blue eyes.
Matty shoved his way forward and threw himself at Simon, his tiny little arms wrapping around Simon’s neck and squeezing tight.
Simon looked up at a distraught Eva. The look on her face was enough to make him feel ill. He tried to smile, to show her that it really was okay.
Mostly.
Sort of.
The somersaulting of his gut was difficult to think around. He knew she’d be horrified her kid had jumped on him like this, the expression on her face said enough about that—but he didn’t have the heart to push the kid away.
If he was honest, it was kind of nice that the boy wasn’t scared of him. The kid was friendly. Much like his mother.
“Matty, give Simon some room, okay? You’re squishing him.”
A happy giggle and Matty fell back, then ran full pelt toward the other side of the room, grabbing something off the lounge.
Eva held out her hand, her bottom lip bitten hard between her teeth, worry making a furrow between her brows. He reached for her hand as Matty barrelled back in between them and held out a stuffed toy. Both Eva and her mother gasped.
A hand-knitted Bananas in Pyjamas, complete with blue-and-white-striped legs and matching jacket.
Simon took it gently, the look of expectation on the kid’s face a little unnerving.
“What’s his name? He’s pretty cool.”
“Narnas.”
Simon’s face erupted in a huge grin. This kid was as original as Finn when it came to naming his toys, his favourite being Bear. It was one of the few words he could say clearly. For some reason that curled happiness deep in his gut.
“That’s a very good name for a banana,” he managed to say with a straight face.
He handed it back and Matty hugged it tight to his overall-covered chest. Simon pushed to his feet as Eva picked Matty up and carried him through the living room to sit on the dining table, then pressed a forehead thermometer to his head.
Simon followed at a distance, his hands winding deep into his pockets, as Eva’s mother looked between them.
“Mum? This is Simon Jameson. Simon, my mother Emilia Adams.” She kissed the top of the little boy’s head. “This little ratbag you’ve already met is Matty. Matthew Michael Adams.”
For some reason relief thundered through his veins that she hadn’t lumbered the kid with Vance’s last name, whatever it was.
And Matthew. He almost laughed—or groaned.
His own middle name was Matthew.
Could the universe be any more bloody obvious?
He held out a hand and smiled at Emilia. “Nice to meet you. Sorry to bust in unannounced like this.”
Emilia’s face broke into a big smile of her own. “And you.” She waved a hand. “Nonsense! It’s not like you arrived as we were sitting down for dinner.” She tilted her head. “Are you?”
Simon frowned, confused. The thermometer beeped and Eva scruffed Matty’s hair. “Am I what?”
“Coming for dinner?”
“Mum.”
That pesky heat was back in his face. “Ah, no. I’m Max’s brother,” he blurted.
At Emilia’s blank look, he expanded. “Max Jameson? The Spotted Cow rebuild Eva’s doing in the Crossing.”
Realisation flashed across her face. “Oh! Of course. I thought the name sounded familiar, but couldn’t place it. You’re his brother?”
Simon nodded again. “Yes. I work with him. For him,” he clarified.
“And you’re single?”
Eva spun, her dark eyes wide in horror. “Mum!”
Simon couldn’t help the amusement winding in his veins leaving as a chuckle. This lady was so like his own mother in that respect. Always on the lookout for a partner for whichever child was single.
“Oh, pfft. The boy’s old enough to answer a few questions.”
Simon rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a boy, Mrs Adams. I’m nearly thirty-nine. It’s fine, Eva. And no”—his eyes flicked from Emilia to Eva—“I’m not dating anyone.”
“See?” Emilia placed her hands on her hips and smiled smugly at her daughter. “A simple question, and he gave me an honest, simple answer. It’s not that hard, Evie.”
Closing her eyes in apparent resignation, Eva muttered under her breath and shook her head as she said goodbye to her son and placed him on the floor, still clutching his Narnas, only for him to run toward the stack of toys spread near the wooden toy chest near the TV unit against the far wall.
Emilia studied Simon, making the hair on the back of his neck stick up. “You must be a special fellow.” She motioned to her grandson. “He never shares Narnas with anyone other than us.”
“Mum? Matty looks fine and his temperature is still normal. I think it’ll be all right to leave him here. I have to run back to the Crossing. Do you need me to grab anything for you?” Eva said, her interruption obvious even to him.
Emilia’s eyes flicked to him, then thankfully away; a cheeky light echoing deep inside them. “No. It’s fine, honey. If I need anything, I’ll get Dad to get it.”
Had she been going to invite him to dinner?
Part of him laughed at the thought; the other part was almost struck dumb with horror.
It was confusing as hell.
Eva hustled toward him, her face all twisted up in what he assumed was contrition. She grabbed his shoulder and spun him, pushing him in front of her toward the door.
He couldn’t help it. He started grinning as he yanked his shoes on.
“Goodbye, Simon. It was lovely to meet you!” Emilia called.
Without looking directly at her, he nodded in her direction. “’Bye. You, too.”
He made it out the door, Eva’s hand tight on his bicep propelling him along, then burst out laughing as the door shut behind them, Eva scrambling into the ute and laying her head on the steering wheel.
Still laughing, Simon hauled himself up into the ute and clicked in his seatbelt. “Come on. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Yes, it was. I’m so, so sorry!”
He leaned back into the seat and rested his arm on the centre armrest. “She’s just scoping for talent. Can’t blame her for adding two and two and getting five. It’s obvious she wants a guy for you.”
She turned her head and glared at him. “Oh? It was that obvious, was it?”
His laughter echoed in the cabin. He relaxed further into the seat and shrugged. “Sarcasm isn’t your strong suit, shortcake. You should stick to charming honesty.”
One brow raised. “Charming? And if you keep it up with the shortcake biz, you’re going to see what it’s like down here at this height.”
That just made his grin bigger. “Threatening to physically maim a guy for observing a naturally occurring phenomenon isn’t in your firm’s prospectus.”
That made her sit up. “And how would you know what’s in our prospectus? I don’t even think we have one. You, Jameson, are a fraud.”
He closed his eyes and shrugged. “You can’t prove anything. I’ll deny it all.”
The car started with a low rumble, the diesel engine growling to life as she muttered to herself.
He felt the motion of the moving car. After a few minutes, he spoke again. “Seriously, though. Your mum is nice.” He breathed deeply and plunged in. “And your son seems a good kid.”
Opening one eye when she didn’t respond, he caught her glancing at him. “I mean it. He’s friendly. He and Finn would probably get on like a house on fire.”
Simon surprised himself with the words. They probably would. Finn was as laid-back as Ryan. Nothing seemed to ruffle the little fellow. Not yet anyway. He’d yet to hit the so-called terrible twos.
Eva’s face softened. “Thank you, Simon. I know that must have been …” She sighed. “I could’ve killed Mum for saying that. Asking you those questions. And Matty never runs for strangers like that. I mean, never. He’s only like that with me and Mum and Dad. And my brother when he lived here.”
At Simon’s questioning look, she expanded. “He moved to Adelaide about six months ago. He’s an engineer. Moved for work.”
Simon nodded. He could see how sad that made her. He understood; he didn’t know what he’d do without his family. “You know, all these people with fancy degrees and jobs could make a guy feel a little out of his depth.”
Eva glanced at him sharply and opened her mouth. He beat her to it. “But it doesn’t.” He smiled to strengthen his words. “I said could, not does.”
He rubbed his jaw and sighed. His next words would determine the entire direction of their friendship, or anything else, whether now or in the future. “You were talking earlier about how you sometimes feel out of place? That you don’t feel you fit? That was me my whole schooling years. I’m dyslexic. I had these super-smart siblings and spent years thinking I was plain stupid. I managed to fudge along until upper high school. Most of my teachers were either too stressed or had too many kids in the class to realise what the problem was. I did really well on the manual arts side of things, so I took classes that required less book work. Many of them had practical exams, which I did really well at. Until year twelve. Halfway through the year we had a change of English teacher. She realised what was wrong and tried to help, but by then I just didn’t care. She helped me pass English at least, by making me watch the movies of the books we were reading and letting me give a verbal report on the movie instead of the book.”
He shrugged and looked out the window. “I felt so damned dumb, needing special consideration and the like. Most of my friends were off to uni. Even my brothers.”
He glanced at her, not surprised to see the compassion that lined her expressive face. It wasn’t why he was telling her, but for some reason it didn’t make him feel weird.
“Gabe is a vet. Max has a business degree. He studied economics and hated it, then changed into business management.” He let a self-chastising smile tilt his mouth. “I somehow even managed to hide it from them, and believe me, that wasn’t easy. Pushy bastards,” he joked. “And here I was, no idea what to do with my life. I ended up working for my dad on his cattle property for years, learning all I could about that by hands-on training. When Gabe came back and started his own vet practice, he bought a small herd and I helped out with that as well, until Dad decided to retire. He asked if I’d like to take over the herd instead, but Max had just bought the Cow and asked if I’d like to be his bar manager. I thought it would be nice to do something different and said yes.”
He looked at her, then. “That was almost twelve years ago. I did some basic courses; the whole workplace health and safety, first aid, RSA, that type of thing. I even have advanced barista certification—all stuff that could be done without written exams. Max wanted me to go further, but …” He held up his hands and watched the highway flash by as they headed for the Crossing. “Honestly? It’s difficult. I can read and was fine at maths; that’s not the issue so much. It’s just that the letters get all mixed up and the harder I try, the more it hurts my head. Literally. I get migraines from concentrating.”
Did he dare tell her the most important part? Was he way off-base?
One way to find out, I guess.
“The reason I’m telling you this is that I want you to know me. And that there are some things I can’t change, if …”
If you are interested.
Dammit.
Why was he even thinking this? Why couldn’t he just let it be?
Why was he so damned attracted to her?
It left him feeling so confused, so damned guilty for being so attracted.
The town limits came into view, the sign flashing past as he thought of what he should—or shouldn’t—say next.
Eva was silent for a few minutes. They came to the roundabout, and she headed toward the council car park where he had his ute parked. He’d messaged Max earlier, before they’d gotten to the cinema, just so Max wouldn’t worry when he didn’t turn up that morning.
He’d received a thumbs up, Max knowing he wouldn’t want to talk.
His brother was good like that. He always seemed to know when to push and when to leave him alone. Max would also know he’d been to the bakery before he’d seen Eva. Either Darb or his mother would’ve told him, and probably told him that his head had been in a crap place when he’d left.
Simon glanced at Eva again. Somehow, she’d known he hadn’t wanted to be alone this morning, despite him telling her to leave. He’d never been so glad to be ignored.
They pulled into the spot next to his ute, the car park mostly full; the few spots left were on the far side where he preferred to park.
Eva put the ute into park and pulled the handbrake. She turned to look at him, the engine still running. Those eyes that didn’t miss much bored into his soul.
“My dad drives one of the dump trucks in Bialga. He’s had the same job for the last eighteen years. It’s a good job. Not a nice one, but a good one. I was fifteen when he started it, and boy, did I cop flack over it. Everyone thought it was hilarious that the awkward girl with the frizzy red hair’s father was the bin man. And my mum worked at the mushroom farm—she was a picker—until she decided to leave a perfectly good job she’d had for years, to become a day care mum so that I could go back to work after Matty was born. I didn’t come from money. Or privilege. And you know what the most important thing they taught me is?”
Simon couldn’t look away from the ebony eyes that seemed to hold him in thrall.
“Not to judge someone by the type of job they have, or what education they might or might not have achieved. My brother and I were really lucky. We had teachers who recognised a talent we had and guided us in that direction. Not everyone has that, as you yourself have shown. And we were lucky that we didn’t have any learning difficulties. It’s hard out here in the sticks. There wasn’t a lot of help then for kids who needed a bit extra. I know a lot of kids who fell through the cracks even when I was at high school. But you didn’t let it stop you. You kept going and you found something you enjoyed. So, it was working for family? So what? What’s family good for if not a bit of nepotism when it’s needed? What you didn’t do was sit on your ass and expect someone else to look after you.”
She didn’t say it outright, but Simon knew that last bit was aimed directly at her ex-husband.
“And I admire people who keep going. Keep trying. I don’t care that you don’t have a degree. Plenty of people get one and do absolutely nothing with it. What I do care about is kindness. Honesty. Genuine people. You are kind, Simon Jameson.”
Before he could refute her, she leaned forward and placed a finger on his lips. Shivers ricocheted down his spine at the innocent touch.
“You are. Today is a shit day for you, one that has so much emotional baggage it’s a miracle you’re not packed for a six-month trip to Europe. But you didn’t push my son away when he came to you for a hug. You didn’t push him away or make fun or belittle his most favourite friend in the world when he wanted to show him to you—a hand-knitted, thrift store Bananas in Pyjamas toy. You had every chance to. Some guys would have played the tough guy, the so-called big man. But you didn’t. You. Are. Kind. To me, how you treated Matty means more than anything else in this world.”
Heat stung Simon’s eyes, and he couldn’t hold her gaze, dropping his own as he frowned at his clenched fists.
“So, thank you. For giving a little boy who you don’t know from a bar of soap a little attention so that he felt important.”
Simon swallowed, his throat tight and sore. He shook his head and rasped, “He is important. All kids are. It’s not his fault that my head is all messed up.”
Her hand moved to cup his jaw. The shivers turned to goosebumps.
“You’re not messed up. You’re grieving. There’s a difference. There’s no time limit on grief. No one can tell you how long is too long to miss someone.” Her voice softened and threatened to turn his insides to pure mush. “You didn’t even have time to say goodbye.”
The sorrow in his eyes got to be too much and trickled down his face to her hand. She wiped at his tears with a gentle thumb.
“If I helped even a little today, that’s all I wanted. To help get you through what has to be a pretty damned difficult day. I know you’re not looking for attachment to anyone, and you certainly wouldn’t want to do so with someone who has baggage. But I do want to be your friend. And I’m here for you if you need me.”
His instant reaction to her using the word baggage to describe her son was one of denial and anger. Not at her, but at the person who made her think that way.
That bastard had a lot to answer for. Simon refused to call him a man. No real man did that to his wife and child. No real man would treat them so badly.
He swallowed and sucked in a deep breath; his throat still incredibly tight.
“I should probably go,” he managed, his voice low and rasping.
Eva nodded. He looked up and held her gaze. “Thank you. For everything today. What would’ve been a complete mess, was made bearable.” He tried to smile. It came out all wrong, but he knew she wouldn’t care. “Because of you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, breathing in a deep lungful of that incredible perfume she always seemed to have on. He pulled back the tiniest amount to look at her expressive eyes.
“You are the kind one, and I am grateful to call you my friend.”